


A Tale of Sun and Sky

by halahan



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Student Seo Changbin, University Student Seo Changbin, Witches, Writing Exercise, day witch jisung, didn't know these were existing tags but why not, magical student changbin, maybe? - Freeform, more minsung time than binsung time tbh, potion maker minho, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halahan/pseuds/halahan
Summary: Jisung likes the smell of Minho's house.This is a normal afternoon for them.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	A Tale of Sun and Sky

**Author's Note:**

> my first skz fic!

Jisung likes the smell of Minho's house. He's more of a big windows and open areas kind of guy himself, being a day witch, but even in the tight space of Minho's potion room, he finds warmth. It's no match for the sun, of course, nothing matches the brightness of its morning rays or the golden glow of its evening ones, nothing makes his skin tingle quite like it—no, nothing,  _ maybe someone _ , but Jisung doesn't want to dwell into that right now—although however packed with herbs and powders and other suspicious substances this room is, the smell reminds him of which of the grass under his feet on a clear-sky spring day ritual. Given, in that situation, the grass would be filled with mushrooms and crystals, but it’s magic and that’s the first thing Minho and him have in common.

Jisung’s not sure where or when they met. As long as he remembers, Minho had always been attached to his hip just like Jisung had been attached to his, gossiping about recent events or bickering over who got to keep the rare item they had found in one of their countless escapades—Jisung still remembers that blue lotus that  _ he _ had fought for its root, and that  _ Minho _ had somehow talked him into giving up, only to offer it prepared at the step of his door a week later—and Jisung has no intention in the world of changing that.

In Minho’s house, he finds familiarity. He doesn’t visit the potion room often, the semi-basement’s windows far too small and covered by various plant leaves for his own good, but when he enters it he’s never lost. It’s just simply too like Minho. Whatever item the older asks him to grab for him while he keeps stirring, Jisung knows exactly where it is because he knows exactly where Minho would put it.

“Fawn fur?”

“You’re out of it, hyung,” Jisung says, not even moving from the little space he’s made himself the counter, pushing parchments and almost breaking a vase.

Minho frowns but doesn’t even spare Jisung a glance. His lips turn in a pout, he stirs the potion counter-clockwise, a few bubbles rising to the top and popping slowly like they’re made of goo. “How do you know, you didn’t check.”

“You complained about it three weeks ago,” the younger continues, picking at his nail before going back to the spell study on his lap, ”said that if Felix hadn’t stuck himself in that deal with the mermaids, you wouldn’t have used as much as you did on his aqua-whatever potion.”

“Ah, right… And it’s aqua-repulsive.”

Jisung hums, instantly forgetting the word again. Minho sighs and goes back to his potion, muttering something about using red elven peas as a substitute.

The words on Jisung’s parchment are starting to blend together, symbols taking strange shapes as his vision blurs with fatigue. It isn’t until he hears the ringing of Minho’s shop bell that he decides to pull himself out of the paper, shoving it into his bag as he passes it while walking to the stairs, heading to the shop.

“Minho hyung is busy,” he says loudly as he steps in the greenhouse-like room. His skin almost sings happily at the contact of the solar light. “I can answer questions if you have any,” he adds, but the customer isn’t paying attention to him. A regular, Jisung supposes, and he makes himself comfortable in Minho’s armchair. The older would yap at him to get off if he was there, both because it’s  _ his _ seat, and because Jisung swung his leg on the armrest, the tip of his boot resting on the book table next to him. But Minho isn’t there, and neither is his familiar, the little creature gone to complete some mysterious task the potion maker assigned it—Jisung never asks what, he’s probably better off not knowing anyway—so Jisung doesn’t care. The customer doesn’t either, walking around the shelves in search of the right concoction.

It’s a peaceful afternoon, the air is dancing slowly, and every plant in the shop is satisfied with it, even the one above Minho’s chair has decided to leave Jisung alone instead of pestering him with its leafy limbs. The witch basks in the sun, his eyes closed, his honey-colored hair out of his face. The shop’s clandestine resident bird must be taking a nap because all Jisung hears are the steps of the customer, from time to time some noises from downstairs, but most importantly the sea. It’s high tide, and the waves crash against the rock at the bottom of the cliff in a regular rhythm, then licking off it with a smooth  _ swoosh _ . Jisung thinks it could be considered music.

A thud on the counter pulls him out of his thoughts and he raises his head off of his palm, his lips pulling into a polite smile that grows much wider when he recognizes the customer.

“Changbin hyung!”

“Hi Sung,” the boy greets back.

Changbin’s hands are buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. Jisung wonders if he’s not feeling too warm with it, reflecting on his own lightweight shirt, a couple of buttons open, but then again as a day witch, he gets a ray of sun and suddenly the temperature rises—nothing to do with Changbin’s smile, at all. The older is also wearing the MMP Academy’s signature baseball cap, and Jisung has to force himself to look down at the flasks he’s chosen to stop himself from staring for too long. He’s not so very discreet, though, and Changbin’s not so very oblivious so he lets out a chuckle. However, he doesn’t say anything.

Jisung looks at the smallest bottle’s tag, reading the words ‘undivided attention’ on it. “I could give you that myself for free,” he jokes, ignoring how his cheeks burn at the shameless flirting he’s letting himself do.

He doesn’t look up, but he hears Changbin sputter a laugh, too. It’s not a secret to either of them, this game of flirt, but in a silent agreement, they had decided to wait for Changbin’s exams to be over.

“It’s for Hyunjin,” Changbin explains, “he’s having trouble sitting through his revisions.”

“Ah, right.”

The other items, Jisung recognizes even without looking at the name. A pack of Minho’s special sleep infusion, midnight violet soothing cream, and a bottle of crushed holly berry and lemon booster, Jisung’s favorite.

“Transformation’s taking a toll on you, isn’t it?” Jisung asks. He doesn’t mean to pry, he’s just concerned. He never studied in the Academy, unlike Minho who graduated the previous year, or Changbin that is getting ready to do the same, as he learned everything from his grandmother, passing the final exams at the age of seventeen. Furthermore, he’s never studied anything related to the Art of Change course that Changbin is following.

“Yeah,” Changbin sighs, but when Jisung looks at him, even with the slight dark circles, he looks happy with his condition. “Who knew turning yourself into a bunny would be harder than a deer. Turns out I am too tall on some standards.”

Jisung laughs. He doesn’t ignore the way Changbin’s expression softens at the sound, he simply registers it and tucks it in a corner of his mind, waiting for the right time.

It doesn’t cost Changbin much, the substances. He’s a student, and a friend of the house, he gets away with the smallest fee. A small shot of electricity goes through Jisung’s skin when Changbin hands him the bills.

“Thank you,” the older says, putting his purchase in his bag, “I’m gonna go back to the dorm, hope Hyunjin hasn’t gotten too out of his study and decided to start cooking again or something.”

The witch scoffs, getting up from his seat and walking Changbin back to the door, waving him off with a smile as the other heads back to town.

Once Changbin is out of sight, Jisung lets out a sigh and goes back inside. The bird has woken up and flies to his shoulder. Jisung tries to bat it away—“I told you there’s nothing for you to eat here, why do you keep coming back?”—but the bird only leaves him alone once Jisung takes the stairs again.

“Did he flirt back this time?” Minho’s voice greets him as soon as Jisung enters the room, and he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t even need to say anything before Minho laughs at him. “I don’t get why you guys keep dancing around each other like that and don’t date already.”

“I told you, I’m waiting for—”

“I  _ know _ why, I still don’t  _ get _ it. But hey, whatever makes you happy!” His potion suddenly starts producing green flames and Minho curses. “Can you pass me the deep lake sand please?”

Jisung throws the bag his way before settling back with his parchment, his energy restored by his walk up the shop.

**Author's Note:**

> ** _MMP_ = Modern Magic Practices
> 
> far too much mental world building for something that needed absolutely none but here we are... if u have any questions i'd be happy to answer them!  
> this was a writing practice, i was trying to portray emotion outside of the characters' feelings. if u felt a particular emotion reading this, i would love to know which so if u could leave a comment i would greatly appreciate it! (this is not an invitation to critique tho)
> 
> find me: [twitter](http://twitter.com/atzplay) \- [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.qa/alpacats)


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